Things We Lost In The Fire
by Electric.Imaginings
Summary: *Title taken from song of the same name by Bastille* Jason is faced by a new threat he can't handle by himself, one that's targeting him and the rest of the Bats. There's strength in numbers, but can Jason overcome the ghosts of the past? More importantly, is it even possible to reconcile and rejoin the brood after everything that's happened? (Rated T due to Jason being Jason)


**Story title taken from song 'Things We Lost In The Fire' by Bastille. Rated 'T' due to the fact that in order to write from Jason's perspective, swear words will be used and because of possible later chapters. Read & Review. Hope you enjoy.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Batman.**

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It had been another long night in his crusade against the Dark Knight, and Jason was more than ready for a hot shower and bed. Not that his apartment had either of those things, but lukewarm water and a nap on the couch still sounded more appealing than taking care of lowlifes at the moment. Dropping his famous red mask onto the coffee table in his living room, Jason headed for the bathroom. It was time to get this sticky, sweaty outfit off.

Jason started the shower and began to peel off his makeshift uniform. His budget for the month was running out and his mind was preoccupied with planning how to spend as little money on personal issues as possible. The majority of it needed to go towards being Red Hood. Life was certainly more difficult when you had two different personas to keep in check and you weren't a billionaire. It was no wonder there weren't many more people like him or the Bats. This shit was expensive.

Jason bathed in record time and pulled on some civvies. It was about four in the morning; his night had taken some unexpected turns and ended up being prolonged by several hours. His only plan was to collapse on the couch, watch a few minutes of TV, and go to sleep. As he settled onto the lumpy piece of furniture, Jason reminded himself for the millionth time that one of these days, he needed to put some of his funds towards a replacement bed for the one that he'd finally gave up on a few weeks ago. All this math was giving him a headache. Turning the TV on mute, he rolled over and closed his eyes. He could sleep with it off, of course, but he felt a little better with at least some sort of light in the room. Not that he'd ever admit it or let anyone know – he had a reputation to uphold, after all.

As he dozed off, Jason found his mind wandering to days long past.

He made a point of acting like he couldn't give a shit about everything, but deep down, he knew he wouldn't be doing what he did if he didn't care. The truth of the matter was that Jason cared a lot, but due to everything that had happened to him, most of the time he couldn't afford to care. It would end up being too painful, because he always got the raw end of the deal, no matter what it was about. As long as he said it enough times, he really would stop caring. At least, when it came to certain things. There were certain aspects of his life that would always be there to haunt him, certain things that were like an old wound that wouldn't stop hurting and that made a point of asserting themselves every now and then.

The one that would always hurt the most was Bruce. Jason could deal with lots of things, but when it came to the man that he'd once thought of as a father, he faltered. He kept up the front when he was around everybody, but when he was home and alone, the masquerade slipped a little bit and Jason's chest would feel hollow and cold with burning rage. Most of the time he wouldn't allow himself to think about Bruce or Alfred or any of the Bats. It became hard sometimes, though; especially at times like now when the holidays were approaching and everything you saw on TV or in the stores was about spending time with your family and friends, like they actually cared.

As a child, it wasn't like his mother was ever there for him, so Jason had never really had a family till Bruce. Until then, he'd always considered the whole idea of 'family', the idea that the people you loved the most would never abandon you, that your bonds were strong enough to withstand anything, to be absolute bullshit. In Bruce, he thought that this 'idea' had revealed itself to be true, that there really was more to family than just random people that shared your blood. But then, Joker happened and Jason's newfound hopes were smashed to smithereens.

He had died only to come back and find that Bruce had replaced him within months of his untimely demise. That everyone acted like he'd never existed, or, when they did, as a warning as what not to be. That Bruce hadn't cared enough to avenge his death; because, if he had, then he sure as hell wouldn't have just let the Joker walk away. No, Bruce wasn't family. None of the Bats were family. As far as Jason was concerned, they were just another set of enemies standing in his way in his conquest for control of Gotham's underbelly. They had proven that so-called family was just like he'd originally though – complete bull. The only truth with family was that they were the people who had the special ability to hurt you more than anyone else in the world.

No, the Bats weren't family. Jason convinced himself that it all just been an act. He knew if he admitted that they had ever truly been family, then he'd be letting those shattered hopes come up and pierce him like shards of glass that reminded him of everything he had gained only to end up losing. Of what he'd thought he'd found, revealed to be a lie. If he did that, then it'd be just like dying all over again.

The way he had died inside when he had first found all of this out had been painful enough, almost worse than when he had actually died. The thing that made it so terrible was that he had to _live_ with this pain; that he had to be reminded of it at every single turn. It would always be there, to remind him of its existence at the times when it was most unwanted. Jason had stopped letting himself cry long ago. Instead, he took the pain and memories and hid it away. He refused to acknowledge it. What else could he do? If there was one thing that any of the heroes could admire about Jason – not that they would – it was that he always found the strength to keep going on, to keep living even when his world had fallen to pieces around him and he was all alone.

Jason reminded himself that the past was the past, long gone and impossible to reshape. There were more important things for him to worry about at the moment. Rolling over, Jason readjusted his weight. He seriously needed to get a bed. Stretching like a cat with his back arched, Jason yawned before plopping back down. His attempts at reentering the sweet abyss of sleep were interrupted by a knock on his door.

_Who the hell…?_ Jason thought with a growl of annoyance as the visitor knocked again. Cursing his luck, or rather, its lack of existence, he grabbed the gun from the coffee table – he made sure to keep one handy at all times. Readying it, Jason walked cautiously to the apartment door and snuck a look through the peephole.

The hallway was empty. Not a single living soul was in sight. Jason was tense in anticipation as he raised his weapon. He silently counted to three before throwing the door open. Nothing but the stale, moldy smell of the apartment building greeted him. That didn't mean that he was out of the danger zone yet, though. Jason stepped into the hall, gun raised in front of him protectively. One of the many things he hated was being played.

There was only one way the pest could have gone, so that was the way Jason went. All was quiet in the building. Even the usual arguments that were loud enough for the whole block to hear (and that annoyed the hell out of him) were quiet. It was all too much like the quiet before a storm, which was how things always seemed to turn out in Gotham. Jason's mouth was set in a frown.

By the time he had searched the entire floor and both the one above and below, it was obvious that whoever had knocked on his door had made their escape. More annoyed than before – the bastard could've at least stayed long enough for Jason to give him a lesson about early morning wake up calls – he took his gun and put on the safety. Whatever it was, the person was gone for the time being and he could worry about it after a well-deserved nap.

He hid the weapon in the waist of his pants with his shirt thrown over it as he went back upstairs. Now that he thought about it, walking around in an apartment building with a gun locked and loaded probably wasn't such a smart idea. He blamed it on the lack of rest and simply returned to his apartment.

The walk back hadn't revealed any sign of the intruder. He almost hoped it was just a kid pulling a prank, but that was highly unlikely. Around here, kids knew better than to mess with anybody unless they liked getting their butt handed to them on a paper plate (nobody in this part of town could afford a silver platter, and besides, Jason thought a paper plate would be much more humiliating). In the end, the strange knocking on his door was most likely a precursor to something that was about to happen, because life could never be easy in Gotham.

He closed and locked the door tight behind him before checking the apartment over. Once sure it was safe, he put the gun back in its place on the coffee table and settled back onto the couch. He was fast asleep before he could ever notice the figure that landed softly on the fire escape right outside his living room window.

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Lumpy couches equaled kinks in joints. Jason was no stranger to this truth and it was becoming a morning ritual to remove them. Yawning, he began to stretch out the stiffness. The fact that Jason was pretty tall also made sleeping on the couch more troublesome than it was worth. As he rolled his shoulders, he took note of the chill and the goose flesh spread across his limbs. It had seemed so much warmer in the room the night before.

Sitting up, Jason checked the time on the TV. It was well past noon. Red Hood wouldn't be going out tonight; the only good thing about last night's extra hours was that they'd given him a chance to wrap up some unfinished business, which meant that he was graced with a little down time. He needed to run to the store and pick up some groceries anyways. Ramen noodles were getting old.

Jason washed the sleep from his face and put on a fresh change of clothes before grabbing his nearly empty wallet. The Bats could blame him for everything else, but hey, he still brought most of what he got. Dreading the hated weekly trip, Jason did another check of the apartment just to be sure he hadn't missed anything last night before heading on out. The first thing he noticed once he was out in the hall was that something was up. The door to the apartment down the hall was open and there was the sound of crying and a pungent smell in the air.

Something told Jason to turn around and get out fast, but instead he walked towards the open doorway, where he found a crime scene. A crime scene with cops snapping pictures and examining a hole in the wall and the area around a… body bag. Things began to click in Jason's mind. The hole was from a bullet, someone had been shot last night. The person crying was a middle aged woman who looked up at some point and saw his face.

_Crap._ Jason turned to make a quick escape, but she screamed. Screamed… but why the hell was she screaming? The cops had already spun around to face Jason, who was preparing a quick excuse when she started talking.

"That's him! That's him! I'm sure of it! He's the murderer!" _What in…?_ "I saw him last night! Right before I found my husband! He had a gun! He did it! Arrest him!"

Jason didn't know what to say, or what to do, but he did know a proper assessment of the situation:

_Shit._

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**I hope you enjoyed and any advice is welcomed. This is my first FanFic focusing mainly on Jason, so understand if its not... well, you know. Please, R&R since I practically feed off of reviews (like a review vampire). Have a great day. Also: I'm still working on Finding A Way, but this idea came into my mind and for the past few days I had just been itching to write about Jason. Don't fret, Chapter Six is coming! And, maybe a Chapter Two for this one...? We'll see :)**


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